


Twenty Seven Minutes

by IronyisOkay



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Dialogue-Only, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 17:04:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronyisOkay/pseuds/IronyisOkay
Summary: "How long before you’re supposed to be on stage?”“Twenty seven minutes.”“Loads we can do in twenty seven minutes.”Greg likes finding ways to stay connected in between filmings. Alex likes whatever Greg likes.





	Twenty Seven Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic in a g e s and my first Taskmaster fic ever! A small fandom makes you get creative - you want the fic, you gotta write it yourself. Enjoy!

“Hello?”   
“Hello, Alex.”   
“Ah – sir, hello, how are you? This is a bit odd isn’t it, you calling me in the middle of the week? Did you have a question about the newest series? Because – now really isn’t a good time, you see, the band’s going on in half an hour and – I could call you back later if you like?”   
“Mm…no, now will do, I think.”   
“Oh. Well. Whatever you like. But I really only do have a minute, the guys are all out on stage checking their instruments and they’ll be expecting me any moment.”   
“I think you’ve got all the time in the world.”   
“…oh.”   
“Oh?”   
“Yes, oh. Oh, I can hear that shark smile in your voice again and I-I think I know where you’re leading, but /really/, they’re expecting me any second, sir.”   
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Care to tell me what’s entered that silly little head of yours?”   
“…No.”   
“/Alex/.”   
“Fine. Fine. Isn’t it obvious? You intend to get me all worked up and then send me out on stage and make me deal with it like a twat.”   
“I like it when you swear. I don’t hear it enough.”   
“Fuck you.”   
“Better. Now. I hadn’t intended to get you all worked up, as you so eloquently put it, but since you mentioned it, it does seem awfully fun. How long before you’re supposed to be on stage?”   
“Twenty seven minutes.”   
“Loads we can do in twenty seven minutes.”   
“Siiiir.”   
“Don’t whine. I can make this so much worse than it is at present. Go on then, rub yourself through your trousers. And tell me when you do. I can tell when you’re lying.”   
“Mmm. I’m doing it now.”   
“Tell me what you want, Alex.”   
“I want to do a good show in twenty six minutes.”   
“No. Tell me when you want me to do to you.”   
“I – I want you to let me touch myself. W-without the trousers, I mean.”   
“Careful, you sure you want that? Someone could see, you know. I’m sure your boys would love to know what my boy has been up to.”   
“Tease. Then I wish it was your hand here. I’m pretending it is, pretending I’m sat snug on your lap with your arm around me.”   
“Do you deserve my arm around you?”   
“Mm…no sir, I’m sorry I suggested it, I don’t deserve it, I should be at your feet on my knees, you shouldn’t even allow me to touch myself at all.”   
“You are /so/ right, Alex, thank you for suggesting it. Go on now, on your knees, that’s a good boy.”   
“I’ll mess my suit up, sir.”   
“You did it anyway though, didn’t you?”   
“Maybe.”   
“No. Not maybe. Yes or no, Alex.”   
“Yes.”   
“Good. Now pull your hand away. Have you got, what, a sofa there?”   
“Yes sir.”   
“I want you to rock yourself against it. I want you to hump it like the needy pup you are. I want you to moan for me, loud enough for anyone walking by the room to find you. Did you lock the door? No, don’t get up to check now.”   
“I didn’t.”   
“Even better. Better hurry up now before someone wants to check on you.”   
“Nngh…fucking hell.”   
“Remind me to wash out your mouth next time I see you.”   
“I will not.”   
“I rather thought not. Go on then. Don’t you fucking care touch yourself now, Alex, I want one hand on that phone and the other behind your back. I want you aching on that stage.”   
“Gah – yes sir, whatever you say, sir.”   
“It is whatever I say, very clever of you. I’m going to come see you one of these days, you know. And I’m going to buy you a present.”   
“A present, sir?”   
“Have you ever heard of remote controlled vibrators?”   
“It does ring a bell, yes sir.”   
“I’m going to get you one. And you’re going to wear it during the show, and whenever I want you to hit those high notes, I’ll just hit the little button and make you sing for me. Would you like that?”   
“Ah – yes sir, I would like that, I like all the presents you buy me, sir.”   
“That’s my sweet boy.”   
“Am I sweet enough for you to ah – to let me touch myself yet?”   
“Not yet. Little while longer.”   
“Greg. Please.”   
“Would you like to try that one again, or will I be needing to fuck you up a little bit?”   
“….sir. Please. Please. I’m sorry, please, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to speak to you like that, I just – I’m so frustrated and I really need to hurry this up and get it over with, and I just – I need, you know I need.”   
“Oh, I know, believe me. I like the begging though, it’s nice. Go on then. Tell me what you wish I was doing to you. And keep your hands behind your back.”   
“Wouldn’t dream of putting them elsewhere. I – I need you, sir, like you said, I need to be at your feet, I need you to tell me what a silly little toy I am, what a good boy I always am for you. I need your hand on me, I need you – I need whatever you think I deserve, sir.”   
“And you shall have it. Go on then. Stop rocking. Pop yourself back in. Go have a nice show. I’ll talk to you later. Try not to take someone’s eye out with that thing.”   
“I can’t – I still can’t touch?”   
“Did I /say/ you could touch?”   
“Well, no, you didn’t, I was just wondering…”   
“That’s a smart one. Go on then, now. I don’t want to make you late.”   
“Yes sir. I just – everyone’s going to /see/.”   
“That is sort of the point. Go on then, think of your nan naked, see if that gets the blood back where it’s supposed to go.”   
“Mm…yes sir, I’m sorry I complained. Thank you for calling me, sir. That was an exciting one. I really thought that one of the boys was going to walk in and see me, y’know, I could hear them calling for me, wondering where I was.”   
“Mm. Does that excite you, Alex? Someone walking in on you humping the sofa like a naughty puppy? Knowing you could be humiliated so easily? One wrong move, moan too loud and it’s over.”   
“No.”  
“Boys who tell lies get their mouths washed out with soap.”   
“Fine. Yes. Thank you. It was hot. You – you’re hot.”   
“Don’t I know it.”   
“I’m hanging up on you now.”   
“Good luck, Alex. Break a leg or two, whatever you like.”


End file.
